


Common Courtesy

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Outside Edge [38]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ice Skating, Light Angst, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: In order to combat a common problem down at their rink, Sebastian institutes a new rule.





	Common Courtesy

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone's wondering, yes, this happens a lot at my rink, and I've wanted to tell parents to do just this literally every single day.

“Higher, Melanie! Higher! I want to see that leg in the air! And point your toe more! Madison, dear! Tell Melanie to point her toe more!”

An exasperated Madison looks at her young student, who had been doing her spiral perfectly before her mom began to bellow, and sighs.

“Point your toe, Melanie,” Madison deadpans, then crosses her eyes, which makes Melanie giggle. But Melanie laughing at the faces Madison pulls out of her mother’s line of sight makes the woman furious.

“Melanie! Show your coach some respect! I don’t pay her _$50 a lesson_ so you can disrespect her!”

Madison rolls her eyes at the mention of her fee, which Mrs. Dickerson has tried to re-negotiate multiple times without success. Compared to other coaches, what Madison charges per half hour is a steal. But not every parent sees it that way.

Definitely not Mrs. Dickerson.

“Y-yes, mom,” Melanie replies, shrinking into herself. Madison puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her away, trying to find a spot where Melanie’s mother can’t bother them. But the rink is basically a fish bowl. There’s nowhere they can go that her mother won’t see.

“ _Respect your coach_. Why doesn’t she try respecting her kid,” Kurt grumbles, occupying himself by writing in his skating journal, planning out the choreography for his next competition routine. He’s been doing his best to ignore Mrs. Dickerson, the way he tries to ignore all of the moms and dads who sit on the sidelines and bark criticisms at their kids as if they have been coaching figure skaters their entire lives. Most parents sitting in the hockey boxes have never set foot on the ice competitively a day in their lives. But the second their kids show some interest, suddenly they’re Marina Zoueva.

“Most parents don’t think they have to,” Sebastian says, just as irritated as his boyfriend. “Not when the kids want to be here and they’re signing the checks.”

“Except yesterday, Melanie _didn’t_ want to be here. She twisted her ankle in practice the day before, and it’s still acting up on her. She told her mom over and over that she wanted to go home until she was in tears. And you know what her mom said? Deal with it. Yeah. It’s easy to tell your poor ten-year-old kid to _deal with it_ when _they’re_ the ones with pain in their legs, exhausted, afraid of twisting an ankle and falling on their heads, while you sit in the hockey box wrapped in a warm coat and blanket, doing nothing but yelling nonsense.” Kurt shakes his head, trembling with anger. “You know, my mom was a competitive skater for _years_ and she rarely criticized me. And she sure as hell never yelled across the rink at me.”

“Come on, Melanie!” Mrs. Dickerson yells, snapping at her daughter as if she were a dog. “Get your butt moving! I want to see you land at least one double Axel before we leave.”

Melanie’s eyes pop. She looks at Madison, who puts her hands protectively on her shoulders.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Dickerson,” Madison says, “we just learned the single Axel. I’m not sure Melanie’s quite ready to land a double just yet. Give her a few months, and when she’s had a little more practice, we can …”

“With all due respect, Madison,” Mrs. Dickerson interjects, mockingly, “I think I know better than you what my daughter is capable of. I’ve been watching her practice that single for the better part of this week. Now, I want to see her land a double, or we’ll be here till this place closes.”

“That’s only six hours from now,” Sebastian says, seething. “And _she’ll_ probably duck out for an hour in the middle to go to Starbucks.”

“Poor Melanie.” Kurt hugs his journal to his chest. “She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t want to compete. She’s not looking to go to the Olympics or anything like that. She just wants to perform, wear a sparkly dress, do some spins and jumps. You know, I think it should be a rule that if parents want to criticize their kids’ skating, they need to do it on the ice with skates on. Then maybe they’d see that it’s not so simple as pointing your toe more or lifting your leg higher.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, chewing that thought over in his head. He has an idea, but he’s debating exactly how much trouble he’d get in for doing it. In the end, he decides _what the heck_. Is the Westerville Ice-plex really going to kick him – a national champion – out of their rink for trying to get a mom off their kid’s back? Probably not. “Hey, babe. You’re into all that fashion stuff. What size shoe do you think Mrs. Dickerson wears?”

“Uh … I don’t know. A six, maybe a six-and-a-half. Why do you ask?”

“I think you came up with a way to get Melanie’s mom off her case.” Sebastian gives Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. “Start practicing. I’ll be right back.”

***

“Melanie! What the heck are you doing with your arms? Hold them out straight! Straight!!”

“Hello, Mrs. Dickerson,” Sebastian says, then waits a moment for acknowledgement. When he doesn’t get it, he continues. “I came to give you these.” He puts a pair of beat up old grey-and-black rental skates on the bench beside her. The woman barely glances at them before she scoffs and says, “What’re _those_ for? There’s nothing wrong with Melanie’s skates. Besides, she can’t skate in rentals.”

“They’re not for her. They’re for you.”

Mrs. Dickerson jerks as if Sebastian spat in her face. “What in the world …? Look, I know you’re a national champion and whatnot so they pretty much let you do whatever you want around here. But I don’t appreciate being made fun of, young man.”

_“No, what you don’t seem to appreciate is how difficult what Melanie does is. The physical exertion, the skill, the dedication. And we’re all sick and tired of listening to you berate her over something you know nothing about! So, from now on, if you want to comment on her skating – her posture, her arm position, anything at all – you’re going to put on those skates, and you’re going to go out there and tell her personally! $5 says you fall on your ass after two seconds.”_

That’s what Sebastian _wants_ to say. He’d also wanted to throw those rental skates right in Mrs. Dickerson’s pinched, mutant, bull terrier-looking face. But he didn’t because, regardless of how much of a jerk Melanie’s mom is, she’s a customer. So what he _does_ say is: “It’s a new policy the coaches have come up with to cut down on the amount of extraneous noise in here while our skaters concentrate on their routines. Competition season is coming up, you know. So we’re asking parents to skate over to their kids if they need to talk to them … as a courtesy.”

“You must be joking.”

“Nope. It’s actually not a new concept. A lot of other rinks have started doing it all across the country.”

“Well, _I’ve_ never heard of it.”

“It’s not the kind of thing a lot of rinks advertise,” Sebastian says with a commiserate chuckle, “but it’s been proven to work wonders in helping skaters maintain their focus.”

Mrs. Dickerson crosses her arms, glaring at Sebastian skeptically. “Has it now?”

“Yup. If our skaters are going to perform at their best, they need to concentrate on their coaches and their choreography. We’re just doing everything we can to make sure our skaters turn into champions. Make sure you get your money’s worth.” Sebastian winks and flashes her a smile. It’s forced, but he’s gotten better at faking it. Still, Mrs. Dickerson doesn’t look completely convinced. Melanie skates by, preparing to perform a single Axel – single loop combination (an attempt on Madison’s part to appease Melanie’s mother). But right before she sets up, she drops her shoulder. Sebastian sees her mother begin to stand, mouth open, and he knocks on the wall of the hockey box to get her attention. Her eyes snap to him, annoyed at being interrupted, but he simply shakes his head and points at the skates.

“I’m sorry,” he says sweetly. “But if you want to talk to her, you’ll need to put those on.” He turns on his blade and skates away, leaving her simmering on the bench with the pair of rental skates by her side. Melanie lands a second single Axel. It’s more or less technically accurate except for her hand position, which, of course, will improve over time.

Nathan Chen didn’t land a quad in a day.

Melanie’s mother is itching to comment on it. Kurt can see it in her eyes, the way they widen; her lips twitching at the corners. But she hesitates. Her mouth drops open, but nothing comes out. Her gaze finds Sebastian on the ice where he’s joining up with his boyfriend to go over his routine. Then she looks down at her side, like she’s considering putting the skates on. But eventually she relents. She was right about the Westerville Ice-plex basically letting Sebastian do what he wants. He and his boyfriend are like rock stars there. Even if Sebastian is playing her for a fool, the management would probably take his side.

He brings them money, after all.

She slides down the bench and away from those ludicrous skates. She sticks her earbuds in her ears and reluctantly starts watching videos on her iPhone. Huddled inside her coat, she ignores Melanie and Madison, as if that’s some sort of punishment. Madison sighs, gives Sebastian a grateful smile, then goes back to helping Melanie with her routine.

Sebastian doesn’t turn around to see the fruits of his handiwork, but he can tell by the expression on his boyfriend’s face that his bluff had the desired effect. It may not end the criticism altogether, but it might give Melanie a much needed break for a while.

“You are so bad,” Kurt says, giggling behind his hand as he pretends to scratch his cheek.

“You said it yourself,” Sebastian says, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist. “If parents want to talk down to their kids about what they do on the ice, let them do it in skates.”


End file.
